


To Have and to Hold

by laughter_now



Series: Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder-'verse [10]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughter_now/pseuds/laughter_now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Bones are retiring after serving fifty years. Bones is convinced Jim will really get bored with him now and leave him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Have and to Hold

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything associated with the Star Trek franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> This is working under the assumption that the time at the Academy doesn't really count into service time. So here Jim and Bones retire 50 years after they start their first tour on Enterprise, in 2308. Unless I'm worse in maths than I thought, Jim would be seventy-five and Bones eighty-one years old by then.  
> This can be seen as a future episode in my Absence 'verse, but that really doesn't mean anything, since no knowledge of the 'verse is required to understand any of what's going on here.
> 
> First posted to my lj-journal on February 15th, 2011.

**_To Have And To Hold_**  
  
  
It was a weird feeling, holding the PADD with his final orders in his hands. _Retirement_. It sounded so…final. Really, it wasn't as if it had come as a surprise, but in the end it had all happened a lot faster than Leonard had thought possible.  
  
 _Retirement_.  
  
Yeah, and who would have thought he and Jim were ever going to reach that point? Not a whole lot of people, and sometimes – far too often, really – that group of disbelievers had included Leonard himself. There had been times when getting old together had seemed like a faraway dream. But here he was, sitting in what used to be his office, the PADD with his final orders in hand. Just like yesterday, and the day before that, and yeah, the day before that, too, he had come here to start clearing things away. He really needed to start putting some sort of order into the mess of reference works, research papers and case files from the hospital, but inevitably he had ended up in his desk chair again, the PADD with his retirement papers glaring at him accusingly.  
  
Suddenly, it all seemed so inevitable.  
  
With a sigh, Leonard put down the PADD and looked around the room. Jim's half of their office had been neat and in order for a while now, and unlike Leonard his husband had taken to retirement with the same exuberance he grasped at everything in life. For him, it didn't seem like much of a challenge to go from having a full-time job to…well, not working anymore, not at all and never again. To be honest, Leonard would never have thought that it was going to end like this.  
  
He had to face the facts, though. He was retired now. He had cleared out his offices at Atlanta General and Starfleet Medical and handed everything over to his successors; all his cases and research projects were either treated, finished, or had been handed over into other - _younger_ – capable hands. Now all left for Leonard to do was to adjust his office at home to those changes. The reference and general works he would keep, but the rest he'd either have to file away or simply get rid off. He couldn't keep cluttering up the place, and maybe they'd find another use for the room now that they no longer needed to work at home. Or anywhere else, for that matter.  
  
He'd keep a fully stocked med-kit around, though, and not as a mere memento of his time as a practicing doctor. No, he'd keep it just in case. With Jim, one never knew, even at the ripe old age of seventy-five years. Not to mention the other members of this family, and Leonard could vouch that their kids and grandkids were taking after his husband as far as their accident-proneness was concerned. No, it was probably best to stay prepared, even if he no longer practiced medicine outside of his own home.  
  
Leonard sighed and powered down the PADD, casting one last look around the room. He'd clear out the office tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Whenever. It wasn't as if he was in a hurry, after all. If there was one thing he had in abundance now, it was time to spare.  
  
He got up and went downstairs into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee. The hardwood floors and stairs creaked under each step, and what had been a comforting sound to him for long years now suddenly seemed to echo strangely loud in the otherwise silent house. The stairs weren't the only thing that creaked, though. His knees were definitely feeling his age, especially when he tried to walk down the stairs too quickly. Jim had been nagging at him for weeks now to go and see a doctor about it, which had been the source of more than just one disagreement between them.  
  
Leonard was eighty-one years old, _of course_ his knees creaked and hurt occasionally. Or daily. Whatever. Fact was, he wasn't too old to make his own diagnosis yet. He needed neither Jim nor some young… _quack_ to tell him that he wasn't a young man anymore. Just because Jim still bounced through life like he was in his perpetual forties didn't mean everyone else had to be like that, too.  
  
It was a simple fact. He was getting old. No, damn it, he _was_ old. He could feel it in his bones, and now he had the documents that said so, too. Leonard McCoy, now officially old and retired.   
  
He programmed the replicator and carried the steaming mug of coffee through the back door and out on the back porch. Putting the cup down on the porch railing, he leaned against the banister and looked out across their garden. Not that there was much to see, all things considered. It was…well, it was a damn back garden, and for the past forty years Leonard hadn't cared much about lawns, plants, or gardening. But maybe he should get started. It was what old people did, wasn't it? Digging around in their gardens with a determination bordering on desperation, just as if they were never quite sure if they were still going to be around next spring to see the fruits of their labor.  
  
It was a strange realization that in all the years that they had lived here, he had never really spent more than a fleeting thought about the garden. They had bought the house in Georgia nearly forty years ago, when Jim had handed over the Enterprise after their second tour in space. It had been the first, small retirement of their careers, though it had been nothing compared to this.  
  
Even without space, their lives had never been boring. Especially not once they had started a family. Life with two overactive boys hadn't exactly let boredom become an option.  
  
Then there had been Leonard's job at Atlanta General, his research work for Starfleet Medical and the regular courses he taught at the Academy twice a year. And it wasn't as if a promotion to Admiral had been able to stop Jim, either. He had worked for Starfleet Intelligence, had taught at the Academy, and not even giving up his Captaincy had been able to keep Jim permanently grounded on Earth, either. They had an apartment in San Francisco and friends and family all over the galaxy, and hadn't really spent much time here in Georgia ever since the boys were grown and had moved out. Six months out of each year, maybe, if that.  
  
It had been good years, after their time on Enterprise. Great years, even. But now that was over, too. Now there were no more tours into space, no more cadets to prepare for what was to come, no more idiots to put back together after they had jumped into something without thinking about it first. Their own kids were long since grown and had started families of their own, and no longer really needed them, either.  
  
Now there was just… _retirement_.  
  
For two weeks he and Jim had officially been retired now, and unlike him, Jim seemed to take to that new period in their lives as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Looking at him, it seemed as if he had never been anything else but a retired Starfleet Admiral. And though he was no longer working, he never seemed to be at home, either. It seemed as if he constantly had business elsewhere – things to do, people to meet, whatever outlet he needed for that perpetual energy of his.  
  
Jim was gone now, too. He had left earlier that day, back to San Francisco for a meeting with some of his successors to clear some questions about whatever work Jim had left them. To be honest, Leonard had only half-listened, his brain too occupied once more by the seemingly monumental task of clearing away the remains of his working life to really listen to the details of what his husband was telling him.  
  
It was core of the issue, really.  
  
Jim seemed to take all those changes in stride, and didn't seem to lack ideas on how to fill his days. Retired or not, his husband had no problem at all with finding something productive to occupy himself with. And Leonard hadn't expected it any other way. Jim _needed_ to be in motion, and it had always been hard to tie him down in any way. Over the past weeks, he hadn't seemed worried about the future at all. On the contrary. To Jim, the idea of retirement had seemed like nothing but a new, great adventure.  
  
Leonard on the other hand…he didn't quite know how to describe it himself. Right now, he mostly felt empty.  
  
On the one hand, of course there was relief. It was hard to miss the signs of his body that he was getting too old for the strain of being a practicing doctor. He no longer had the physical stamina for longer surgeries, he sometimes had trouble focusing, and his hands weren't as steady and reliable as he was used to. He was the first to admit that there were other, _younger_ doctors who were sharper and quicker than he was.  
  
Retirement really was a relief. No more obligations, no more pressure, and instead plenty of the one thing he and Jim had always had far too little of – time.  
  
But that was only one side of the coin. The other was that unproductive leisure was not what Jim was about. Jim always needed the challenge; he needed something to occupy both his mind and body. Jim didn't deal well with boredom.  
  
And that's what it all boiled down to in the end. Deep down, though he wasn't yet fully willing to admit it, Leonard was ready for some peace and quiet. He was ready to shift down a gear or two and see where it would take them.  
  
But Jim was and would always be Jim. Leonard wouldn't have it any other way, either, but still he couldn't help but worry. How long until Jim realized that he wasn't made for sitting around doing nothing? Their retirement had been official for two weeks now and Jim hadn't spent a single day at home, with Leonard. How long until they realized that they had never really been stuck together like this, twenty-four hours a day with no other tasks to keep them occupied?  
  
How long until Jim got bored with him?  
  
Leonard took a sip of his by now lukewarm coffee, his eyes still roaming through the back garden. Maybe it was already starting. It seemed that ever since their retirement had become official, they spent even less time with each other than they had while they were both still working a full-time job. Of course, Leonard had been extremely wrapped up in trying to let go of his working life, and wasn't entirely done with it yet if he was honest with himself, but still. It felt like they were in two different places right now, and Leonard couldn't help but worry whether this was just the first fissure in their marriage.  
  
If there was one thing retirement meant then that now they finally had as much time for one another as they wanted. Nothing else asking for their time and attention. And now that they finally had as much time for one another as they wanted, Jim was never home. Leonard normally wasn't one read too much into things, but really. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something about this whole mess wasn't right.  
  
He didn't quite know for how long he stood there and stared out at the back garden, but he could tell the exact moment when Jim stepped onto the back porch with him. After all those years, a room simply felt different if Jim was in it. So he wasn't surprised when his husband's arms wrapped around him from behind and he felt Jim brush a kiss against the back of his neck.  
  
"Hey," Jim murmured and untangled one hand from Leonard's waist to reach for his discarded coffee cup on the porch railing. Leonard watched his husband's arm vanish out of sight and heard him take a sip, followed by a small sound of disgust.  
  
"Yikes," Jim spat out disgustedly. "It's cold." He upturned the cup over the banister, pouring the coffee into the begonias below, and Leonard found himself wondering whether the liquid would make for a good fertilizer. He guessed that was the kind of thought retired old people had when they resorted to gardening in order to avoid death of sheer boredom.  
  
"For how long have you been out here, Bones?"  
  
Leonard shrugged. "A little while."  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
Without thought, Leonard found himself shrugging again. "Thinking."  
  
He leaned back into Jim's embrace a little more, reveling in the feel of his husband pressed against him. They still fit like this as if they had been made to match, even after all these years, and despite all the changes they had been through during that time. They had always been roughly the same height, but back when they were still young, Leonard had always had a good ten to fifteen pounds of muscle and bulk on Jim. Over the past decade or two – or maybe three – however, that muscle mass had dwindled more and more, to the degree that Leonard himself thought he looked rather scrawny in age.  
  
Jim on the other hand now had gained those ten or maybe fifteen pounds on him. He had softened out with age, with a slight paunch and love handles which Leonard loved more than he had ever thought possible. And still they fit like two pieces of a puzzle. For now, at least. Until Jim realized that he was now stuck with a retired old man for twenty-four hours a day.  
  
"Thinking about what?" Jim asked, nuzzling his face against Leonard's neck.  
  
"Gardening."  
  
Jim laughed disbelievingly and unwrapped his arms from Leonard's waist to step around him and lean against the banister within his line of vision. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest and a small smile played around the corners of his mouth. Even after all these years, Leonard still felt something stutter in his chest at the sight of those incredibly blue eyes looking right at him. Jim, too, had aged, but he was wearing it well. His hair had darkened with age but now had gone nearly completely grey. There were lines around his eyes and mouth, too, but Jim claimed most of those came from laughing. Leonard knew that for a large part, that was probably true.  
  
His eyes were still as clear and blue as they had been that day on the shuttle over fifty years ago. And right now, the expression in them was teasing.  
  
"You've been standing out here, thinking about _gardening_?"  
  
Leonard shrugged and didn't quite meet Jim's eyes. Instead, he shifted the coffee cup around on the banister until it was perfectly aligned with the edge.  
  
"I just thought. You know, now that we have time for these things."  
  
"For gardening?" Jim sounded doubtful. "For all those years, the extend to which we worried about gardening was that we made the boys mow the lawn, and since they moved out we pay the neighbor's kids a few credits to do it. And once or twice each summer we tear out everything that looks like a weed rather than a flower. Hell, we've grown _thistles_ for years now because they look pretty enough. So why do you suddenly spend time thinking about gardening?"  
  
Leonard shook his head and forced a smile on his face. "No reason, really. So, how was your meeting?"  
  
Something crossed Jim's face for a second and Leonard knew that his change in topic had been too abrupt, but then Jim decided to let the matter rest for now and shrugged in response.  
  
"Boring, for the most part. York is pretty afraid that he'll screw up now that he's been promoted, though he doesn't want to admit to it. But I'm guessing it won't have been the last time he called about something, at least not until he realizes that being an Admiral doesn't mean that you've got the fate of the world in your hands with every damn comm call you make. I'll give it another two or three weeks, then he'll have settled."  
  
He cocked his head to the side and regarded Leonard for a few moments. "What's going on, Bones?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Jim smiled slightly, but there was an undeniable notion of worry on his face. "This." He gestured towards their back garden. "Normally, you don't worry about things like gardening, and it's not really like you to stare forlornly into space and let a good cup of coffee go to waste."  
  
Leonard thought for a moment, but his thoughts were too much of a jumbled mess to even think about voicing them. Evading Jim's eyes, he reached for the empty cup instead and shook his head.  
  
"It's nothing, Jim. Just getting used to everything."  
  
He knew that it was not going to be enough for Jim. His husband was like a dog with a bone when he sensed a problem, but for once in his life Leonard hoped that maybe this time Jim would let the matter rest. He carried the empty mug back into the house, but instead of putting it back into the kitchen he put it down on the coffee table and sank down on the sofa with a sigh.  
  
A few moments later, Jim's steps sounded on the hardwood floor, but instead of sitting down beside him, Jim stopped behind the sofa and put his hands on Leonard's shoulders.  
  
"I'm going to take a shower; I'll be back in a little while. Although you're welcome to join me, if you like."  
  
He pressed a kiss on top of Leonard's hair and squeezed his shoulders, then the gentle pressure of his hands vanished and Jim's steps retreated into the direction of the stairs. Leonard's shoulders sagged a little at the sound of the bathroom door closing upstairs. A little while later the water started running and Leonard rubbed his hands across his face with a tired sigh. He didn't want to have this discussion with Jim, not now and preferable not in the foreseeable future.  
  
He could get started on dinner, he supposed. It might help to distract from any further discussions, but it was only a little after four in the afternoon, and although he was retired now, Leonard didn't feel quite ready for the Early Bird Special just yet. Instead he got up from the sofa, ignoring the way his knees protested quite firmly against the motion, carried his mug back into the kitchen and set the replicator to brew him a fresh coffee.  
  
By the time he was settled on the sofa once more, cup within easy reach and a PADD with today's newspaper settled firmly in his lap, it became obvious that Jim had finished with his shower. The bathroom door opened, followed by steps in the hallway and the slight creak of their bedroom door opening and closing, a minute or so of silence and then the sound of their bedroom door again.  
  
Leonard suppressed a slight wince as Jim came down the stairs at a speed that his own knees would repay him for with days of ache and pain. Quickly, he turned a couple of pages in the newspaper and immersed himself in the next best article. Something about the Andorian ambassador on Earth returning to his home planet after forty years of service, but even though Leonard read the words, the contents of the article didn't really make it all the way into his brain.  
  
Jim didn't come directly into the living room. Leonard heard his husband rummage around in the kitchen for a few moments, and by the time his steps approached the sofa, Leonard was reading Ambassador Shres' statement about how much he was looking forward to returning to Andoria. Leonard glanced up as Jim put his own mug down on the coffee table and settled in his favorite armchair.  
  
"What's going on, Bones?"  
  
In hindsight, deflection was probably the worst idea, but at that moment Leonard was seriously lacking any creative alternatives.  
  
"Ambassador Shres is retiring. Wasn't he the one you negotiated that peace treaty in the Argellian sector with?"  
  
Jim didn't answer right away, and though Leonard did his best _not_ to look up, he could imagine the expression on his husband's face only too well. At that moment, all his hope that they were not going to have that discussion now – or anywhere in the near future, either – went right out the window.  
  
"Yes," Jim replied after a moment, his voice carefully calm and neutral. "We're both invited to his going away dinner next Saturday, which I told you a couple of days ago already. And I wasn't talking about the damn newspaper, Bones."  
  
Leonard sighed and powered down the PADD, but it took a long moment until he finally managed to gather enough courage to look up at his husband. Jim was watching him, the expression in his blue eyes not one he could immediately place, but which held a definite undertone of worry.  
  
"Then what were you talking about?" It came out more gruffly than he had intended, but there was no way to change that now. Jim leaned back in the armchair and ran one hand over his face with a tired sigh.  
  
"What I'm talking about is that you've been acting strange for a while now. You're constantly moping around in your office upstairs, saying you'll clear it out, but at the end of the day the room still looks the same. You're grumpy, but not your usual grumpy where you grumble and complain about anything and anybody. You're quiet and brooding, and I've had over half a century to figure out that a quiet and brooding Bones isn't a good thing. Also, I pretty much just offered you sex in the shower and you didn't so much as bat an eye. So what's going on?"  
  
Leonard felt his shoulders move into a shrug that he knew wouldn't be enough to convince Jim. Not after all these years.  
  
"I told you. I'm still getting used to everything."  
  
"Getting used to what?"  
  
"You know. Everything. Retirement."  
  
Nonchalance wasn't working too well when he couldn't even look Jim straight in the eye, but apparently his brain was already adjusting to retirement and old age and refused to come up with something more coherent and clever. It was probably a good thing that there were no more patients who relied on his ability to think on his feet anymore.  
  
Jim just regarded him with a look that clearly said he was looking right through Leonard's façade.  
  
"And that's why you're brooding. Because you're _'getting used to everything'_."  
  
"I'm not brooding," Leonard protested even as his anger started rising inside of him. He knew it was unwarranted, that Jim hadn't earned to be on the receiving end of an outbreak. But that's what he got for not stopping with his damn prodding.  
  
"Of course you are," Jim snapped right back. "You're brooding every damn day when you sit upstairs in our office and do anything but finally clear the room out. And you were damn well brooding earlier when you were staring off into space, thinking about _gardening_ , of all damn things. And you're seriously trying to tell me that you're not brooding?"  
  
Leonard honestly had no real reply to that, but apparently his mouth hadn't quite gotten the message that his brain was coming up empty.  
  
"And what's it to you? It's not like I had any time to just sit back and think for the past five decades, so if I want to do so now I'm damn well going to do it! You want to call that brooding? Fine, go ahead! I'm only trying to find something to keep myself occupied with now that I no longer have a job to go to every damn day. And if I want to worry about the state of our garden, you're just going to have to live with it, no matter if it seems… _useful_ to you or not!"  
  
Leonard got up from the sofa, and the move would have been much more determined and final if it hadn't been for the accompanying wince as his knees protested against the sudden movement with a sharp stab of pain. He kept his face turned away so that Jim wouldn't see him grimace, picked up his coffee and walked back out the back door and into the garden.  
  
And yes, he knew he was acting like a sullen five year old child, thank you very much. But he needed to get away from his husband and that damn interrogation for a while. Seriously! Just because in Jim's world retirement seemingly meant never being home for longer than a couple of hours at a time, he had no damn right to judge that Leonard was dealing with things differently. Or not dealing. Whatever.  
  
It was none of Jim's business, that's what really mattered. If Leonard wanted to pick up gardening as part of his new life as a retired old man, he was damn well going to pick up gardening. End of discussion, and Jim wasn't in any position to judge him for it. Not that Leonard gave a flying fuck about gardening, or plants, or whether or not they grew thistles or Valirian flesh-eating plants in their damn back yard, but still. It was a matter of principle.  
  
Their lawn needed mowing, Leonard realized as he put his mug down on the banister and walked over towards the small shed where they kept their gardening tools. They'd have to do something about that soon. Well, no time like the present. Leonard had the rest of his life to worry about nothing but this crap while Jim kept on gallivanting around San Francisco and the rest of the whole damn planet.  
  
Yes, he was still overreacting and no, he still didn't give a damn about it.  
  
Leonard forewent the lawn mower and grabbed a pair of gardening gloves from a shelf. In all honesty, he had no idea what most of the tools in the corner and along the shelves were even there for, but since he had no idea what the hell he was about to do next, it didn't really matter. Grabbing a rake for good measure, he turned around again and nearly ran into Jim on his way out of the shed.  
  
Sidestepping sent another sharp stab of pain through his right knee, and before Leonard had a chance to brush by him, Jim put a hand on his shoulder and turned to face him. Judged by the way Jim's eyes were narrowed, he was either pissed as hell, or well on his way to getting there.  
  
"What is going on, Bones?"  
  
"What the fuck does it look like?"  
  
Leonard pulled away, and Jim let his hand drop away and took half a step back, regarding him with both his eyebrows raised and a doubtful expression on his face.  
  
"In all honesty, right now it looks as if death by rake is imminent for someone, and I sure hope it's going to hit the begonias and not me."  
  
As lighthearted as Jim's words were, his tone wasn't, and Leonard gripped the handle of the rake more tightly because he didn't really know what to do with his hands.  
  
"What do you want, Jim?"  
  
"Right now? I really want to know what the hell is bugging you, Bones."  
  
Leonard hefted the rake more tightly and brushed past Jim towards the nearest flower bed.  
  
"Why would you care? It's not like you're ever home."  
  
And how he got from not wanting to have this discussion with Jim to downright provoking it, Leonard had no idea. But rational thought had gone out the window a while ago, and apparently his brain to mouth filter had decided that today was as good a day as any to retire right along with Leonard's career.  
  
Jim had turned around to follow him, but he froze mid-step as he heard Leonard's words.  
  
"What?"  
  
Aw, the day was going to hell in a handbasket anyway. No reason waste any precious energy trying to stop the inevitable now.  
  
"You heard me, Jim. You're never home anyway, so why would you care what the hell is bothering me?"  
  
"Of course I do." All the anger had drained from Jim's voice, and his expression had shifted into one of astonished disbelief. "We've been married for nearly forty-eight years, friends for much longer than that, of course I care about what's going on with you. Where is all this coming from, Bones?"  
  
Leonard threw the rake down on the ground and ran his hands through his hair in frustration.  
  
"Where is all this coming from? For how long has our retirement been official, Jim? Two weeks, that's how long. And how many days have you been home ever since then? None. Not a single one, Jim. Apparently, being home with me for twenty-four hours a day isn't all that appealing. So excuse me if I'm trying to find something else to occupy myself with now that I'm stuck at home all day."  
  
"What?" On any other occasion, it would have been flattering to realize that he had stunned Jim into momentary speechlessness, his expression lost somewhere between confusion and anger as if he wasn't quite sure which emotion to settle on. "What the…damn it, Bones. You know that's not true."  
  
"What I know is that you spend just as much time in San Francisco now that you're retired than you did when you were still working. And I get it. I mean, you've never been one to let go of things easily, and you've always needed to keep yourself occupied. It was probably inevitable…"  
  
"Wait, wait, wait," Jim interrupted, brows furrowing. " _I'm_ not the one who's been brooding in his office every damn day for the past two weeks, unable to clear out anything. So don't tell me I'm the one who can't let go of my work, all right?"  
  
"That's not the point!"  
  
"Then what the hell is? I'm sorry, Bones, but you lost me. It's okay if you need some time to let go of everything, but if I'm spending time trying to help York settle into his new position, it means I don't want to be with you? I don't know, but it sounds kinda hypocritical to me."  
  
Leonard huffed in frustration. "It's not about that, Jim. So yeah, maybe it took me a while to get used to the idea that I'm never going to work again. And maybe I didn't clear out the office because it would have meant admitting that my career is officially over, but fact is I get it now. And I get that it's the right thing for me. I'm ready for this, Jim. I'm ready to shift down a few gears and be an old, retired doctor. But you, you're not like that. Never have been. You need to be around people, you need something to occupy yourself with. You'd probably go crazy with boredom after a week or two of doing nothing."  
  
Jim was shaking his head. "Who says it has to be like that? Since when does retirement mean that we have to sit around doing nothing all day long?"  
  
"Because taking the shuttle to San Francisco every morning to come back late in the afternoon? Spending your days at Starfleet Intelligence helping people out with their projects and problems? That's _working_ , Jim. Retirement means _not_ working anymore. It's what old people do, Jim. It's why they retire. And at eighty-one, I think it's safe to count me a part of them. I'm ready for this."  
  
"You know, this whole speech would have been a lot more convincing if you hadn't been doing the grumpy old man routine ever since the day I met you, Bones." Jim pointed an accusing finger at him, but then dropped his hand with a tired sigh, as if all his strength had drained out of him. "So you're saying you're ready for retirement. I get that. Now, I don't believe for a second that you're ready to sit around on your ass all day long doing nothing, but even leaving that aside for a second, I have no idea why the hell you'd think I wouldn't want to spend some time with you now that we finally have it."  
  
"Because you're not like that, Jim. Never have been. You need to be in motion, and you need to be amongst people. And I…I just get the feeling that we're in different places right now."  
  
Jim looked like he might want to shake Leonard, or maybe even punch him, but he still didn't look as if he understood what Leonard really wanted to say. And of course they couldn't have this discussion inside, like normal people would, but instead they were having it out here in the back garden, where everyone could hear them. Just fucking great.  
  
Jim was shaking his head – really, Leonard had a hard time remembering whether he had actually stopped shaking it just once since this conversation had started. This whole conversation was going downhill fast, and Leonard wanted nothing more than to turn around, get back into the house and forget this afternoon ever happened.  
  
" _Different places_? What the hell is that even supposed to mean, Bones? I'm right here. And I don't want to be anywhere else."  
  
Now it was Leonard's turn to shake his head. "That's exactly the point, Jim. You're not made for sitting around all day long with nothing to do. Let's face it, Jim. It won't take long until you realize that this isn't the kind of life you want. You'll get bored with it, and then you'll get bored with me. It's really just facing the inevitable…"  
  
He stopped when Jim suddenly reached for his shoulders and gave him a violent shake. He nearly bit his tongue and his teeth actually rattled for a moment, but Jim cut off any possible reply.  
  
"Damn it, Bones! Snap out of it!"  
  
Leonard made move to brush his husband's hand away, but Jim refused to let go, and instead dug his fingers more tightly into Leonard's shoulders.  
  
"What the _hell_ are you talking about, Bones? Why on earth would you think that I'd get bored with you?"  
  
Leonard tried to turn away, but Jim's grip was firm and he didn't give him a chance to move.  
  
"You will. Come on, Jim. You're not exactly cut out to grow old like the rest of us."  
  
Jim laughed, but there was no amusement in the sound. "What, you mean sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair, complaining about the neighbor's kids shooting footballs into the rose bushes? No, and neither are you, Bones. Just because we're retired doesn't mean we have to stop having a life, for crying out loud."  
  
Leonard finally managed to brush Jim's hands off.  
  
"Most certainly didn't stop you," he grumbled, but Jim was still close enough to hear him. He drew a deep breath and put his hands against a second before he looked up at Leonard again.  
  
"All right, so I haven't been home much during the past two weeks. Maybe you're not the only one who needs some time to get used to everything. What do you want to hear, Bones? Of course it felt good to be needed. This job has been a part of my life for the past fifty years, I can't just switch that off. I know you can't, either, and the first time the hospital or Starfleet Medical asks you to consult on a case, you won't say no, either. That's why you're sitting upstairs every day and can't bring yourself to clear out the office. But no matter that it's not all that easy to let go, that doesn't mean I'll get bored with you."  
  
Leonard took a step back, but Jim followed the movement and didn't allow him to put any physical distance between them.  
  
"Besides, no matter how much you try to pretend otherwise, you're probably the least boring person on the planet, Bones. I'd imagine that growing old with you is anything but dull. Especially if you really pick up gardening, because trust me, that's a show I wouldn't want to miss for the world."  
  
Jim grinned up at him, and there was a spark in his eyes that settled something inside of Leonard which had been upset for far too long now.  
  
"Asshole," he grumbled out, but without any real heat behind it. The smile on Jim's face widened slightly, some of his cocky reassurance returning now that they were back on firmer ground.  
  
"Come on now, I'd pay to see you try to get any gardening done when you're not even able to kneel down properly. I bet it'd quite a show, not to mention the ultimate source of the newest curses."  
  
Leonard wasn't quite sure whether to laugh or push Jim away and storm off for yet again nagging about his knees and his steadfast refusal to see a doctor about the fact that he was getting older. But then Jim's face grew a little more serious, and he took a small step to bring them closer together. When he reached for his hand, Leonard didn't pull back. Jim lifted the hand and ran his thumb over the silver ring on Leonard's finger.  
  
"I meant it when I said _till death do us part_ , Bones. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I have no intention of being anywhere else. I guess I'll just have to learn how to shift down a gear or two, but I want to be with you. And if that means sitting on the porch watching how you get frustrated about the state of our back garden, then so be it."  
  
Leonard shook his head, but he couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him.  
  
"I tell you, you'll go mad within a month."  
  
Jim's smile was sure now, much more like the self-assured man Leonard had loved for a large part of his life.  
  
"Just because we're no longer working doesn't mean we have to be stuck in the house all day, Bones. We have kids, grandchildren, friends, family and godchildren all over the place, all of them people we haven't seen enough of in far too long a time. Hell, we've traveled across half the galaxy but there's still plenty of places here on Earth we haven't seen. Now we finally have the time to figure out what we want to do next. How can that possibly be boring?"  
  
When Leonard didn't answer, Jim nudged him with his shoulder. "More time with each other. I promise, Bones."  
  
If there was one thing that could be said about Jim – other than the fact that he was a giant idiot at times, and that most of the grey hairs on Leonard's head were thanks to him – was that he kept his promises.  
  
Jim looked at him, a small smile still playing around the corners of his mouth. When Leonard didn't answer straight away, he nudged him again with his elbow.  
  
"We good?"  
  
Leonard rolled his eyes. "Tell Admiral York to finally start doing his damn job on his own, and yeah, we're good."  
  
"How about you finally get around to clearing out the office, and we'll call it even."  
  
Leonard felt a smile of his own tug at the corners of his lips. "Okay."  
  
"And while you're at it, you might want to call a doctor about your knees."  
  
"Don't push it, Jim," Leonard growled, and Jim laughed at that, loud and real for the first time that evening.  
  
"All right," he yielded. "One thing at a time." He pressed a gentle kiss against the ring on Leonard's finger, then released his hand and took that final step into Leonard's personal space. For a moment he hesitated, as if he was worried that Leonard was going to push him away after all, then he leaned in and Leonard closed his eyes at the feeling of his husband's lips on his.  
  
Even after all those years, Leonard couldn't get enough of this, of having Jim pressed up against him as close as possible. The kiss wasn't heated, but it was long and almost achingly tender, and to Leonard it felt like coming home after far too long. He didn't want to let go, even as the need to breathe forced them apart. Jim leaned his forehead against Leonard's and closed his eyes with a small sigh.  
  
"Let's go inside," he said, his breath gushing warmly over Leonard's skin. "There's a lot of better things I can think about doing than standing around here in our back garden, putting on a show for the neighbors."  
  
Leonard laughed. "Don't tell me you've grown shy all of a sudden."  
  
Jim's eyebrow pulled up in a way that spoke volumes. Leaning in close, he whispered into Leonard's ear.  
  
"Maybe I just don't want to share you with our nosy neighbors. And I have a couple of things in mind that involve getting you naked as soon as possible, just so you know."  
  
And really, who was Leonard to say no to that?  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
"It definitely is. So what, are you coming or not?"  
  
"I'll be in in a moment, just let me put that rake back."  
  
Leonard made move to bend down and pick up the discarded rake, but Jim pulled him away by his hand.  
  
"Forget about the rake, Bones."  
  
"What, so that the next person who goes into the garden falls right over it and breaks something? Hip fractures aren't to be taken lightly at our age, Jim."  
  
Jim laughed and pressed another quick kiss against Leonard's lips before he continued to pull him along towards the back door, rake or no rake. And really, Leonard's only other choice was to let go of Jim's hand, and right now that really wasn't an option. Jim squeezed his hand once as they made their way back inside, and as he turned towards Leonard his blue eyes were sparkling with mischief.  
  
"I bet you fifty credits I can get David to come over and clean up the rake. He'll probably end up mowing the lawn, too."  
  
"Jim, you are not going to call our son to come all the way here from New York to clean up a damn _rake_."  
  
"Come on Bones, it'll be fun."  
  
Leonard only rolled his eyes and let Jim pull him back into the house. "I bet you a hundred credits that David is much too clever than to fall for whatever sob-story you'll come up with."  
  
Jim laughed out loud as he continued to pull Bones along into the direction of the staircase, and the bedroom.  
  
"Oh, you're so on, Bones."  
  
As he kicked the bedroom door shut behind them and started fumbling to open the buttons on Jim's shirt, Leonard figured there could be worse things.  
Right now, Jim didn't seem bored at all. He'd just have to make sure things stayed that way.  
  
  
 _ **The End**  
_


End file.
